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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27319621">cardigan</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dudeass/pseuds/dudeass'>dudeass</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Ocean's Eleven Trilogy (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Breaking Up &amp; Making Up, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Misunderstandings, Not So Unrequited Love, Self-Esteem Issues, a softer more benevolent rusty, they are dumb and hurt each other, young matt damon hive rise</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:40:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,182</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27319621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dudeass/pseuds/dudeass</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>linus feels like an old cardigan under someone's bed. rusty puts him on and tells him that he's his favorite.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Linus Caldwell &amp; Danny Ocean, Linus Caldwell/Rusty Ryan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>when you are young they assume you know nothing</strong>
</p><p>the days folded into each other. first slow, a monday to a wednesday then fast, halloween to christmas.</p><p>by the time linus lifted his head out from under the bullshit he was met with a life that did not feel his.</p><p>a kitchen where the microwave had been used more than the stove or oven ever had, a work locker that only held a hole filled hoodie, a phone call log of unknown scammers who seemed to want to talk to him more than the known ones did. no ring, no dog, no fence. just loose stale cigarettes next to a pack of redbull.</p><p>if he was a <strike>better</strike> man, he'd do better. but, he wasn't. he was exactly what they'd labeled him as. a coward. even worse, a fool. a fool to think that someone as small as him could keep someone as big as rusty, someone, who didn't want to be kept. </p><p>they'd started with glances. a hand on the shoulder. a joke at linus' expense (always at his expense). a word of advice. a home-cooked meal. a job well done.</p><p>but they'd ended in tears. snot and tears and glass. the worst combination. </p><p>linus had remembered looking up at rusty, captivated by how this man, this force, could with one shift of a hand, quell every wave in linus' mind even the loud raucous ones. how this man, mortal in appearance but godly in soul and mind, could <em>fly </em>high enough to touch heaven but low enough for the likes of the linuses of the world to get caught in his field, somehow feeling as though they could fly too.</p><p>now, linus walked home alone, haunted by memories of skin on skin and love and fucking bliss. fool's gold. </p><p>when danny shows up, he's far past his breaking point. hands calloused from days of fucking mortar and dirt, eyes sunk from the redbulls, skin red from the perpetual cold that follows right through the thin walls past his blankets and through his sweaters.</p><p>they don't even speak about it which greatly falls on linus's half-assed deflections and scripted stories. where rusty won't entertain filler—all that linus is—danny will.</p><p>danny will allow linus to lie about having been busy with work. he’ll excuse his rants about the last tv show he just finished binge-watching. he’ll most definitely smile politely and let linus play with his food as he tries to distract him with questions that they both know the answer to.</p><p>but, he also will sit down on the couch afterward and when asked how long he’s in town for, answer “for <em>however long you need me.”</em></p><p>that’s when linus knows that he’s failed a one-man show. as usual, he’s see through. </p><p>“this isn’t healthy kid.” comes 3 days later out at a pub near his apartment. even in the rowdy chaos of the bar it feels so fragile. </p><p>he doesn’t give it a response instead choosing to observe onlookers with a newfound interest in his beer but by the way danny leans towards him in his peripheral vision, linus knows that his silence has already spoken for him.</p><p>“i’m not going to meddle in your life,” danny starts with a sigh. “but jess will, and i had to damn near knock her out with a bat to keep her from coming.”</p><p>linus laughs at that. jess is more of a mother to him than his own, always fretting and preening over him. always making him feel warm and whole. </p><p>“we just want the best for you. you’re 22 and that’s 22 years too early to be so,” danny leans in beers now pushed aside. ”miserable.”</p><p>linus forces a smile that seems more like a grimace. “miserable’s a bit loaded don’t you think?” he asks. “what’s the age limit for despondent do you think?”</p><p>danny doesn’t even spare him some grace by laughing at that. instead, he presses his lips in a thin line, crosses his arms, and leans into his seat. “whatever it is and no matter if you’re 12 or 22 or 32, it’s too early. you have these great years called your mid-forties and fifties for that. it’s called a mid-life crisis.”</p><p>“i’ve always been an early bloomer.”</p><p>he gets a huff. ”well, cut it out before you end up sleeping on a twin-sized mattress  next to my bedroom, waiting for jess to tuck you in at night.”</p><p>the waitress comes over with the tab and danny pays—of course. </p><p>“that’d actually be nice.” linus mumbles as he slips on his sorry excuse for a coat, the fur matted from all the damn ice, snow, rain, and sleet. just another reminder to get out of this godforsaken city while his legs are still able.</p><p>the walk to the building is short and the journey to his door even shorter but by the quickness in which danny moves, it feels as though linus has just ran a 5k and is desperately trudging to the finish line. he doesn’t know what danny is rushing for, can never seem to read him, so it makes something in his stomach coil as his brain kicks into overdrive. </p><p>when linus finally catches this man, his goddamn idol, stands arms crossed doing that chin thing as he patiently waits next to his door. the trash, the cigarette butts, the empty water bottles that litter the hallway aimlessly have been pushed aside by <em>armani </em>loafers.</p><p>it reminds linus of what was is so goddam special about people like danny. they can go anywhere in anything and still fit in. still read every goddamn person and with a bravado thirsted after by men inferior. </p><p>if he didn't feel so queasy, he'd get that look in his eye. all doe. all admiration. </p><p>they mess around in the apartment for a while. danny criticizes his book collection while linus messes with his antenna. by the time he gets on an old baseball game, linus starts to notice how much danny <em>watches</em>. watches him and his apartment with those sharp eyes.</p><p>it brings back the anxiousness from before. danny is not a life coach who flys hundreds of miles just to point out the obvious. there is always a plan. a far more hopeful and naive part of his mind wonders if it has something to do with rusty. </p><p>he doesn’t ask—and when he thinks danny will bring up the bar conversation again, he doesn’t. unpredictable danny instead heads to the shit excuse of a bathroom, changes into his pjs, and flops back down on the couch.</p><p>they watch their game and drink heineken and when linus finds himself snoozing off on danny’s shoulder, for the first time in a long time he doesn’t feel as alone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. where did my baby go</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>did i close my fist around something delicate? did i shatter you?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>i am not your god linus.</em>
</p><p>he hears it everywhere. on the train. in a busy street. huddled in bed dead to the world. rusty is everywhere. </p><p>he permeates bodies of people. he moves in paranoic stealth. he forces his way into linus's world. he floods it. </p><p>
  <em>i am not your god. </em>
</p><p>the words live with him. they sleep in linus's bed. they sit on his fucking sofa right in the spot that rusty would lay—no regard for personal space or etiquette—and they burn marks into the cushions. every inch of the apartment. the kitchen where rusty would cook. the drawer where his clothes once overflowed. even blasted across the window where this pseudo mortal of a man would stand swathed in golds, pinks, and oranges. the words are everywhere.</p><p>they taunt him. cut at him as if he is not flesh and bone and sponge. casually cruel.</p><p>just like their speaker. </p><p>see really, the honesty within them is the poison. </p><p>for people like linus, that's all it takes to disarm them for good. simply, an outside confirmation of all they believe to be true about themselves. enough to bring grown men like him to their knees. enough to shatter their hearts. </p><p>
  <strong>rusty was not linus's god.</strong>
</p><p>he'd barked it at him. challenged linus's snot and tears with a face scrunched tight, eyes fixed into the sharpest of daggers, veins bubbling from hot frustration. stood, so tall and so still. the room was silent but the handles of a duffle bag—of rusty's, spoke louder than linus ever could, even when crushed tightly in between a fist.</p><p>now, months later, linus can only envy the nylon webbing straps. come to truly hate them. and himself, because they took his place. selfishly filled the slot that was saved for <em>his</em> hand.</p><p>in this jealousy, linus tries to piece together the memories of warm pillow-like press against his rough. wish once then <em>twice</em> that he'd held rusty's hand one more time before he left. yearn once more to claim the space of rusty's as his own. </p><p>god, their fight seemed so far away in moments like these. on a morning where the sun rose high enough over the crowds and the skyscrapers and planes and stores to hit linus's face from his shitty apartment window, wedged between brick building and dumpster alley. sometimes, he could forget. close his eyes, squeeze them hard enough to feel almost like he was once again in rusty's glow.</p><p>but then he'd open his eyes and the screams of accusations and betrayal, although quiet held such a haunting to them that he'd shut his blinds and tread on back to the darkness of empty bed.</p><p>"remember," linus would tell himself, "remember that endgame would have ended in no other way."</p><p>because of course, rusty had seen that look in his eye when he met linus who was all sinfully bone, hurt, and admiration. god, the desperation behind it all. of course, he'd seen linus's chaotic anxiety spread so tight and so densely layered. another show. another trapeze. </p><p>because for him it was always about security. always about rusty settling for him...a nobody. an extra in a world seemingly filled to the fucking brim with main characters and their talking pets. </p><p>because linus was not a fairytale but instead a monotonous catalog devoid of spark and magic. </p><p>of course, he'd seen. </p><p>how young linus had been and how naieve when he'd seen <em>himself</em>. realized that he was him—and would carry this being everywhere. </p><p>when looking in retrospect, their entire relationship had been closely akin to that of an apprentice and his master. linus had laid across the floor, so carefully, hoping that maybe if he'd smoothed his edges enough, held them close enough, still enough, that rusty would take pity on him or find value in his efforts. hoped that it would be enough because around rusty, he never felt enough or at least never allowed himself to. always scared of one day rusty waking up, arms holding him tight, to be met with a clear as day imposter. that was linus.   </p><p>he'd spent so long on the sidelines desperate to be included in rusty's world that once he'd entered all he could ever think of was how to stay. better yet, of how to heal once it came crashing down. and that—in his madness and misgiving—was what it took to push away his lover—the one he was never supposed to have.</p><p>and of course, rusty in his all-knowing noncommittal glory had left. when it wasn't easy, he'd ran. when he'd seen the damage on linus's psyche after years of this <em>game </em>they'd played before deciding to come together, it was enough to send him away.</p><p>just enough to bring their porcelain relationship crashing against bitter cold concrete floor. </p><p>linus had fucked up the best thing he'd had. that realization is what made it hurt so goddamn bad. </p><p>so, he'd worked. worked till everything hurt, blood in boot, splinter wedged deep. jobs came so far and few nowadays that he'd relegated himself to a life of grueling labor. preferred it to the bullshit of his life past. </p><p>those months after rusty were zombie-like. </p><p>plaster and bills and snow and trained tight smiles shot at the boys and his parents and danny and jess. </p><p>but he wasn't sad. empty yes but not sad. how else do you reconcile with your nightmares forming right in front of your eyes? pessimism of damaged cynic made veraciously omnipotent. he didn't know how to live in this life.</p><p>danny could clearly see it.</p><p>It showed in the way linus's hands always trembled unless they could grip onto something tangible like the remote or a cup of coffee or his godforsaken phone that the jackass never even bothered checking. he could tell that linus didn't know how to exist alone which he found humorlessly ironic considering his kid's ex-lover on the other hand was all too capable of living a life where everyone is a stranger even himself (but clearly didn't want to).</p><p>and that was all it took. danny knew that along with jess and her brilliance for poking and prodding, he could sew a mend, bringing together two bleeding hearts and their ineffable love.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>found this that i wrote a couple months ago n am posting so that you laugh at the pretentiousness of it</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>not sure where im going with this but i like this pair and the work in this fandom so please excuse any mistakes🥺</p></blockquote></div></div>
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